


Booty Call

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Handcuffs, M/M, PWP, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 04:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle
Summary: Sometimes Ignis needs to let go of his rank, his position, his control. Gladio always knows exactly what he needs, exactly how he wants to be treated, and how to help Ignis unwind. That's all it is. That's the arrangement.





	Booty Call

**Author's Note:**

> This is an excerpt from a much longer AU, but the AU setting isn't that relevant to events here. This is just PWP. Enjoy!

Moisture seeped through Ignis's shirt from the wet brick he was leaning against. The London rain didn't exactly clean the streets, or make the alley smell any nicer, but it gave the already dark night deeper shadows for him to hide in. Not that he really wanted to hide.

“Officer,” he said, bowing his head in a brief nod before looking up at the man from over the rims of his glasses. Heavens he was beautiful. Those dark eyes and strong jaw, dusted with stubble, held Ignis captive.

Gladio stopped and pressed his hand to the wall over Ignis's shoulder. Ignis felt his toes curl in his shoes with anticipation, and willed his body to behave itself as Gladio leaned in close enough for his breath to tickle the shell of Ignis's ear. “I thought I might find you here,” he said. His voice was low and gravelly, the sound licking up Ignis's spine.

Ignis breathed in, forcing his stomach to stop fluttering with excitement by willpower alone. He could smell Gladio's cologne, dark, and woody, and enticing. He breathed in again for the hell of it, enjoying the scent before he tilted his head back to regard him haughtily. “Looking for me?” he asked, “Constable Amicitia?”

Gladio looked him over, and Ignis could see the hunger in his eyes. “You gonna come quietly?” he asked.

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Do I ever?” he countered.

Gladio huffed through his nose. Ignis felt the warm air gust against his neck. “Then I guess we do it the hard way,” he said.

Ignis hadn't noticed Gladio's other hand moving in readiness. It shot out like a snake, gripping his wrist tightly, threatening to bruise. Ignis retaliated, twisting sharply, his elbow grazing along Gladio's stomach. The grip on his wrist turned, becoming painful, and Ignis gasped as his elbow was grabbed and used to lever him around, turning him to face the wall, slamming his chest into it.

Gladio tutted at him. “Play nice,” he warned.

“You know me better than that,” Ignis told him, pressing his cheek against the wall and trying to give Gladio a defiant look out of the corner of his eye.

With a heave that left him staggering and off-balance, Gladio dragged him away from the damp wall and angled him towards his car. He didn't let Ignis find his feet as he pushed him towards it, although Ignis tried not to make the task too easy for him. Fingers dug into the crook of his elbow as he was shoved, and then a foot caught the inside of his ankle and kicked it away, sending him crashing down onto the rear of the car with a dull crunch.

His arm was twisted up behind his back until it was almost painful. He gasped when that pain became a little too sharp to be bearable, and Gladio eased off, just a fraction, but kept him pushed firmly down onto his face. His elbow was released as Gladio fumbled for something, and then he heard the telltale clink of metal. Something slapped onto his wrist with a ratcheting sound, and Ignis's eyebrows rose as his other arm was grabbed and dragged behind his back to meet the other one. “You brought those, did you?” he asked.

“You seem to like 'em,” Gladio answered, pressing Ignis down against the car again, hard enough that he felt the car dip on its suspension with their combined weight. Gladio's hips settled firmly against his ass as Gladio leaned over him heavily to growl into his ear. “You've got the right to remain silent. I suggest you use it.”

Ignis did his best to roll his hips up, pressing into Gladio's. “Do you have a licence for that?” he asked, feeling a firm bulge press noticeably into the cleft of his ass.

Gladio's heat and weight retreated suddenly, and then the car jerked away as Ignis was yanked back by the cuffs. Gladio's large hand settled tightly at his collarbone, and Ignis was half pushed, half led towards the back door of the car. He was pushed hard against the chassis again and pinned in place with Gladio's hips as Gladio pulled the back door open. “Quit testing me,” Gladio growled, but Ignis couldn't miss the way Gladio's groin pressed unnecessarily against him.

“You enjoy it,” he countered. His shoulders wrenched a little as Gladio yanked him back by the cuffs again, and he winced, but Gladio's hand settled on his head as he bundled Ignis into the back of the car.

Ignis shuffled along the seat, tucking his legs in obediently and half wondering if Gladio was about to join him. Then the door shut, and Gladio got into the driver's seat instead. He adjusted the seat, pressing it all the way back so that Ignis had to spread his legs or be shoved back by his knees. His car wasn't designed to carry handcuffed suspects; there was no comfortable notch in the backrest for his hands to slip into.

“Gladio,” he complained, squirming to try and find a comfortable position, and failing. He caught those beautiful golden brown eyes looking at him in the mirror and felt his throat go dry. If he complained about being uncomfortable Gladio probably would undo the cuffs, or let him sit in the front where he'd have more legroom.

He held that gaze for what felt like an eternity, and then said, “Step on it, will you?”

Gladio huffed with amusement, and then did precisely that.

It was a mercifully short drive to their destination. Ignis was still feeling the pull in his shoulders, and the ache in his arms and back even at the end of the short drive. The couple of minutes it took for Gladio to park to his satisfaction felt like torture.

The car lifted on its suspension when Gladio climbed out wordlessly, and reverberated with the slam of the door. Ignis was already poised to slip his leg out when the door beside him finally opened, and Gladio reached in, taking his arm and half dragging him out. He fell against Gladio as he pulled his other leg free, and for a second thought Gladio was going to hold him and set him back on his own two feet.

Instead Gladio pushed him away, pressing him into the side of the car once more as he shut the door, and activated the locks. “This is police brutality,” Ignis hissed.

“You can try for that if you want,” Gladio told him, pressing up against him again as he made sure the car was locked. “You'll need to pick a safeword.”

He pulled Ignis back again, holding him close against himself as he guided Ignis towards the lift. It was late; no one was likely to be around to see, and yet Ignis still felt his throat dry out at the prospect. “What else would you call this?” he challenged, leaning his head back so he could try and get a look at Gladio's face.

Gladio looked down at Ignis out of the corner of his eye, giving Ignis a knowing look. “What you deserve,” he said, giving Ignis a harder shove and herding him into the lift.

When the lift doors closed behind them Ignis found Gladio's weight bearing down on him again, thrusting him suddenly against the wall. The fingers that pressed into his collarbone slid around to the front of his throat, forcing his chin up, and his head to arch back. “You wanna keep pushing me, I'm gonna show you what you're dealing with,” he growled, low and dangerous into Ignis's ear. His hips jammed into Ignis's again. His fingers tightened, and Ignis's breath caught. “Is that what you want?”

Ignis swallowed, closing his eyes as he felt Gladio's grip tighten a little more around his throat. Gladio's whole body felt hot, and overwhelmingly large at his back, pressing him to the cool metal interior of the lift. “Is it?” Gladio demanded. Ignis could feel Gladio's lips brushing against his ear.

“Yes.”

Gladio's nose disappeared into his hair, each breath he took fluttering the strands. His lips traced the shell of Ignis's ear so lightly that Ignis wasn't sure he was really feeling it, until he felt teeth graze the soft skin. The lift came to a halt. “You got it,” Gladio said.

Ignis's feet stumbled more than once on the way to his apartment door. Gladio didn't let him recover, but instead dragged him back to his feet and kept pushing him onwards. Ignis's front door didn't delay him for long, and Gladio kicked it closed behind them both. Normally Ignis would have told him to treat the property with more respect, but Gladio's hand was too much of a distraction, already ripping at Ignis's shirt buttons.

One came free just inside the front door. Another three disappeared on the short journey down the hall. The last ones gave way with a faint ripping sound at the threshold to the bedroom where Gladio paused only long enough to force open the button on Ignis's jeans and drag his zip down. Ignis held his breath as Gladio changed his grip, one hand curling around the back of his neck before the march resumed all the way up to the bed.

The shove he was given wasn't light. Ignis felt himself thrown face down across the mattress and he collided with the bed with a grunt. He bounced, and two large, eager hands gripped at his jeans and tugged. He tried to move, tried to roll, or squirm to see what Gladio was doing, but one hot hand pressed his shoulder back down into the bed while his shoes, jeans, and underwear were roughly yanked away.

A rough palm caressed up the back of his naked thigh. Ignis lifted his head, trying to see again. His glasses had been thrown askew when he'd landed on the bed, and he glimpsed Gladio working at his own trousers with one hand. Their eyes met, and Ignis felt a thrill travel down his spine as he saw the predatory look on Gladio's face. Then Gladio's hand moved from his shoulder, long fingers sinking into his hair before pushing his head back down, driving him cheek first into the mattress. Fingers dipped between his thighs, pulling at his leg, widening the space so that Ignis felt exposed. Gladio's legs slotted between Ignis's own, keeping them apart, and then Gladio's hand trailed back up, over the soft inside of his thigh to find his cock and give it a firm stroke. Ignis was already hard, the soft cotton of his sheets providing just enough friction against his skin to be torture.

“Get on with it,” Ignis hissed, and had his face pressed harder into the bed for his trouble. His glasses were off, now, only held in place because they were trapped between his skin and the bed.

“One of these days I'm gonna leave you hanging,” Gladio rumbled. Ignis squeezed Gladio's legs with his own, curling his leg to try and drag Gladio in. There was a sharp swat across his buttock, the sound of skin smacking against skin cracked in the air, and it left a pleasant heat and tingle in its wake. “Quit it,” Gladio told him. “You're not in charge, here.”

There was another cracking smack across his other buttock, evening out the sensation. Then Ignis heard the sound of his nightstand being pulled open, and a plastic cap being flicked up. He shifted again, trying to rock his hips up, but the cold sensation he expected never came. Instead there was a faint, bubbling squirt, followed by the sound of slick skin being stroked. “Gladio,” he complained, unable to twist his head to see what the other man was doing.

The hand at his head disappeared, and Ignis lifted it in time to feel the hands go around his upper arms, one cool and sticky through his shirt sleeve, the other dry and hot around his bicep. Gladio gripped him, and yanked him nearer, until Ignis's thighs were hanging off the edge of the bed. One large hand splayed between his shoulderblades, pinning him down. Unhurried fingers found their way along the cleft of his ass, slick with lubricant, and teased at his entrance.

“Gladio,” he complained again. His cock burned with the need to be touched, heavy and hard, jutting into the side of the mattress. His legs were useless weights, unable to find a position to hold himself up, but not long enough for him to rest his knees on the floor while Gladio held him fixed.

A single finger delved inside him, taking Ignis's breath away with its unexpectedness. He gasped, closing his eyes and feeling the minute stretch it caused. Gladio's finger was slick with lubricant, and it twisted easily inside him. He felt the hard thrust of Gladio's hand as he quested a little deeper, that finger hooking slightly until a ripple of pleasure darted down the length of Ignis's cock and he cried out. “Don't I always take care of you?” Gladio asked, before pressing at Ignis's prostate again.

Ignis could only yelp in response. Gladio's finger drove into him again, pressing hard against his insides until Ignis felt his knees tremble. The noise it dragged from him was frankly disgusting, a low, desperate sounding wail tore from his throat, and Ignis tried to turn his face into the sheets to muffle it. Pleasure and need rocked through Ignis's body like the waves of a tide.

“Do you want it?” Gladio asked, twisting his finger again and stealing Ignis's breath and mind.

He couldn't reply. The words got lost in his throat, and his feet scrabbled against the floor, trying to find purchase to push back into that sensation and claim more of it. He wanted it, wanted more. He wanted to feel Gladio inside him, that thick, long cock filling him until his eyes rolled. He wanted Gladio's hand around his dick, stroking him to the peak of pleasure. He wanted to feel Gladio's weight pressing him into the bed as he came apart beneath him, helpless and sated.

“Well?” Gladio demanded. He punctuated the question with one final, hard press of his finger against Ignis's prostate, sending sharp shocks of pleasure through his whole body that were almost too much to bear.

“Yes,” Ignis choked out, at last. “Yes, please,” he pleaded. His voice was ragged and needy to his own ears. “I want it.”

Gladio's finger left him, suddenly, and Ignis squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a sob. Gladio might give him what he wanted, but there was always that risk that one day he'd do what he threatened and leave Ignis hanging. He enjoyed hearing Ignis beg, enjoyed seeing him desperate and squirming. He liked to see stuffy, posh Ignis come undone in his hands almost as much as Ignis enjoyed being taken apart.

The pause after Gladio's finger pulled away was enough to make Ignis concerned that Gladio was going to make good on his threat. Then something altogether larger and hotter pressed between his cheeks, rubbing tantalisingly at his entrance. “Relax,” Gladio said. His voice had gone low and throaty, and the sound made Ignis's toes curl. “I got you.”

The first press of Gladio's cock stretched and burned. Gladio hadn't stretched him out much, and Ignis knew it had been deliberate. This way, he could feel every glorious inch pressing its way inside him. Ignis felt his body giving way, felt the power of Gladio's body as he pushed inside, stretching Ignis's inner walls to accommodate him. It was a slow, measured, inexorable thrust that seemed to last forever until finally Gladio's hips were flush with Ignis's ass. Ignis exhaled, his eyes closed. Gladio's hand kept him pinned to the bed, the cotton of the sheets held firm against his chest. His shoulders ached with having his hands cuffed behind his back for so long. His glasses lay a useless couple of inches away from his eyes, mocking the dishevelled state Ignis knew he was in.

It didn't matter. Gladio was finally inside him and it was what Ignis had longed for since Gladio had pressed his chest against the wall in that alley.

One hand stroked down the back of Ignis's thigh again, teasing his legs that little bit further apart. Ignis complied, unable, or unwilling, to keep putting up the token resistance needed to urge Gladio on. Gladio gave a satisfied grunt at Ignis's obedience, and then curled his hand around the cuffs at Ignis's wrists again, his fingers brushing over Ignis's open palms.

Then he moved, drawing back, his cock dragging out of Ignis until the head threatened to come free too. Ignis whimpered, and hated the embarrassing sound. It earned him a soothing shush from Gladio. “I got you,” he repeated.

He drove back in hard, forcing the air from Ignis's lungs and making stars burst around the edge of his vision. The flesh of Gladio's hips slapped against Ignis's thighs and ass, and he set up a punishing pace that rocked Ignis on the bed. Every draw back was so fast that Ignis didn't have the time to enjoy it, every thrust in seemed to rock through Ignis's entire body. Waves of pleasure rolled through Ignis, so rapid that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the next began.

Gladio's cock pressed against his prostate with every movement. Ignis could feel it all the way down his cock, through his balls, promising an orgasm it refused to deliver. His cock bounced against the side of the mattress with the strength of Gladio's thrusts, adding to the sensation without being enough to tip him over into orgasm.

Gladio leaned his weight onto his arms, onto Ignis's back. Ignis knew he was making noise. Every slap of Gladio's skin against his served as percussion to the sound of Ignis's pleasured, needy cries. He might have asked for Gladio to go harder, he couldn't be sure. Gladio acquiesced, pausing only a moment to adjust his hold on Ignis, pressing his face into the bed instead of his chest, before he resumed at an even more brutal pace than before.

The room, and the bed, and everything else melted away. Ignis became lost in the feeling of Gladio inside him, and over him. He couldn't discern anything but the pleasure of Gladio's body inside his any more.

He felt it when Gladio stilled, shivering slightly, hips pressed hard against his own, cock driven deep inside him. The second it took Gladio to come, snarling something that might have been Ignis's name, fingers going tight in Ignis's hair was enough for reality to rush back. Ignis was painfully hard, teetering on the edge of his own orgasm, his body prickling at every point of contact, yearning for just that little bit more to push him over the edge.

Gladio leant down over him, his hand leaving the cuffs to slip under Ignis's hips and grasp his cock. A couple of swift pumps was all it took, leaving Ignis to cry out as orgasm ripped through him at last. He felt hot liquid splash against the bed and his own thighs, felt the little aftershocks course through his whole body as Gladio gave a couple of lazy, final thrusts inside him.

Then he felt the emptiness as Gladio withdrew, letting his hair go. Ignis slipped to his knees, bent over the bed. He was trembling too much to try and stand.

He heard Gladio turn, his boots thunking against the wooden floor as he made his way to the bathroom. There was the sound of water, and then he returned, and something warm and wet stroked around Ignis's thighs and cock, and ass. “Thank you,” Ignis murmured.

“Hold on,” Gladio said. “I'll uncuff you.”

Ignis heard the jangle of keys, and felt Gladio taking the cuffs carefully in his hands. There was a soft click, and the pressure was suddenly released. He gasped as aches and pains shot the length of his arms when he moved them, pulling himself up to perch on the edge of the bed.

Gladio's hand gripped his wrist, a tender thumb rubbing over the indentation the cuff had left in his skin. Ignis swallowed, and looked up at him. This was always the dangerous part, these moments just after it was over, when Ignis was vulnerable, and Gladio was too.

Warm brown eyes met his, and the look was softer than Ignis could stand. He looked away. Gladio dropped his wrist, reluctantly. “I'll get going,” he said.

Ignis's heart lurched. He wished it wouldn't. “You don't have to,” he said, before his brain caught up with him.

Gladio froze. Ignis didn't dare look up to see his face, unsure of what he might see, or what he wanted to see. “You want me to stay?” he asked. There was no surprise in Gladio's tone, it was just a question. What did Ignis really want?

This had started out as scratching an itch. Gladio was attractive, and smart, and understood Ignis's position. He seemed to find Ignis attractive too. At first it had been fine, messaging every so often for what Gladio insisted on terming 'a booty call' and Ignis couldn't truthfully call anything else. But the more it had happened the harder it had got to stay away the rest of the time.

“I could make you breakfast?” he offered, quietly.

The silence dragged on a little longer than was comfortable. They shouldn't do this, Ignis knew. Hooking up for a quick fuck and parting ways like strangers was one thing, but this would make things messy. He might not be Gladio's superior officer, but he was still a superior officer. If Gladio had any sense he'd run a mile, stop answering Ignis's texts, stop spending his friday nights fucking him into sweet oblivion.

“All right,” Gladio said. Ignis looked up.


End file.
